


Scientific Interest

by DunmerLover



Series: Kinktober 2020 (DunmerLover's Canon/OC Edition) [3]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lactation, Master/Acolyte, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunmerLover/pseuds/DunmerLover
Summary: Day 5 of Kinktober 2020.Prompt of the day: Lactation.When his Interrogator is stung by an unknown floral species while working out in the field, Inquisitor Drogan refuses to take any chances with her physical safety - and while observing her condition over time, the two discover a most unexpected side-effect of the encounter.
Relationships: Inquisitor Drogan/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2020 (DunmerLover's Canon/OC Edition) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961152
Kudos: 10
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Scientific Interest

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who has read my story _Fool's Gold_ (which is basically an elaborate rape fic featuring Drogan) might be familiar with the Interrogator in this oneshot.
> 
> I think this pairing would also qualify for Size Difference (as I see it, anyway, I go with how Drogan is scaled in _Space Marine_ and my headcanon is that he's fucking huge).
> 
> Anyway, this pairing hasn't debuted yet. In _Fool's Gold_ , Drogan was paired with a different OFC, but there were mentions of these two having had a relationship in the past (and given how long the elites of the Imperium live for, this relationship potentially spans many years). I've been working hard on a oneshot to actually get the pairing out of my head and explicitly on a page for a while now but I haven't wanted to rush it. As a result, this one, unfortunately, has to be the debut for the pairing and unfortunately I have to subject them to this freakiness. I still like it enough (and for some reason there was no other pairing I really felt like I could fill this prompt with), it's just a little strange and the oneshot I'm working on is actually pretty neat.

Inquisitor Drogan was a powerful man - authoritatively, of course, and certainly supernaturally. Not to mention physically. Anastasia’s best estimation- most peoples’ best estimations, actually - put the man somewhere between an _un-enhanced_ human being and a space marine in terms of his size. How much of that had come from gene-bulking and how much was simply human evolution - a result of the selection pressures on his feral homeworld, a reflection of his ancestors’ unending struggle to survive on that harsh planet - Anastasia would never know.

Needless to say, he was a powerful man… and in the bedroom, he happened to like it rough. Fortunately for him, his Interrogator did too.

The Interrogator gazed up at him now, eyes heavy with pleasure. She watched the small movements carry over his face that betrayed his own delight as he rocked into her, over and over. Anastasia was lost in that dreamy look in his eyes whenever they fucked - almost like he wasn’t all there to enjoy it. The thought that she could do that to him made her positively giddy.

“Drogan…” she breathed the name into the relative quietness of the bedroom.

Her Inquisitor only hummed - a low, satisfied sound - in response. His eyes shut lazily as he claimed her mouth in a slow, yet deep and heavy kiss, any further words from her silenced by his tongue on hers. He kept his steady pace atop her, inside of her.

It was a while before he broke away, but Anastasia took the opportunity to speak as it was given. A delicate hand placed to his cheek, rough stubble grazing delightfully beneath her palm. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Likewise, Ana…”

“But you can go a little harder if you want…”

Drogan didn’t open his eyes, didn’t look at the Interrogator beneath him, instead hummed again in affirmation.

“I could do that,” he eventually replied, his words a low purr in the girl’s ear. He brushed aside raven hair, tucking it behind her ear as their eyes finally met again. “However I do not believe you are in any state to take me that way.”

Anastasia gave a slightly frustrated sigh. Indeed, the last time they were together, he’d fucked her so hard she’d passed out. _This_ … was simply not like him. “I’ve been _taking you_ that way for years now… and you know I’ve had my bones reinforced. What’s changed?”

Still keeping his steady, gentle pace, Drogan’s metal hand ghosted up along Anastasia’s naked body, so small beneath his own. Wordlessly, his palm brushed lightly over the furious red welts all over his acolyte’s arm and shoulder.

The girl huffed incredulously. As she did, Drogan stiffened - the sheer force must’ve hurt him a little. “ _That’s it?_ she cried. “That’s why you’re being so gentle? Drogan, I was stung by a plant, not mauled by a Genestealer, for Emperor’s sake-”

“You were stung by an unidentified species on a dangerous world we know _very_ little about,” the Inquisitor cut her off sternly. He still rocked into her. “Until we know more about that plant, I refuse to take any chances with you.”

Even as he said that, the memory was far sharper in Anastasia’s mind than she wished to admit. The thing didn’t so much as sting her but _bite_ into her flesh - crimson thorns like small scythes dug deep into her and injected whatever toxin it had adapted to fell its prey. She’d screamed - quite unlike her. She hadn’t been expecting the world’s flora to rear up and _grab_ her like that-

She quickly put that thought aside. She felt fine - though admittedly sore at the site of injury, and a little groggy. “How long until you’re satisfied I’m not in any danger?”

“The cuttings are being analysed as we speak, Ana. Be patient…”

The Inquisitor nuzzled his nose against hers, and again claimed her mouth. Though frustrated she couldn’t have it exactly how she wanted it (and by now she’d gotten _very_ used to getting what she wanted, one way or another), the Interrogator was able to give herself to the moment. Gentle sex with Drogan was better than no sex with him at all. Anastasia moaned heavily into his mouth, lifting her hips to allow him deeper inside - and he took the invitation eagerly, driving into a spot deep within that made the girl keen openly. The Inquisitor’s flesh hand lowered, exploring her body like it was the last time he ever could, he palmed at her ample tits, rolling a nipple between finger and thumb-

She didn’t know what startled her more - the sudden warm, wetness on her skin, or Drogan’s grunt of surprise as his own hand smeared it inadvertently over her breast.

Their movements halted instantly. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, Drogan had seen it, and Anastasia had _felt_ it.

“What…” Emerald green eyes flicked up to his glowing blue. “What was that?”

As if it was just another facet of his research, the Inquisitor reached down again. Their eyes were fixed on the Interrogator’s nipple as Drogan straightened up, and squeezed, gently, a second time. Without a hand to block its path, the liquid squirted some distance, landing on the Inquisitor’s powerful chest.

Suddenly Anastasia felt light-headed, eyes darting first from the white liquid running down Drogan’s naked, muscular form, to her own leaking nipple. “What the fuck was that? What did I-”

She cut herself off, not entirely sure how to keep on with her own words. Whatever that was, she had _never_ done it before.

Within her depths, the Inquisitor’s cock throbbed as though desperate to keep on, yet despite their position together neither was really thinking about sex at that moment. Again he pinched at her stiff bud, every line of his face betraying his fascination as more of the stuff squirted out like a tiny, delicate fountain. Getting the message, it would seem, he turned his attention to her other breast and did the same.

“Drogan, stop _doing_ that!” Anastasia cried, squirming to get out from underneath him, and away. “What’s happening to me? What _is_ this?”

A sudden look of total understanding washed over Drogan’s strong features, and as it did, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “I believe… you are lactating!”

“Excuse me? _Lactating?_ And _will you stop laughing!_ This isn’t funny!”

He respected her plight enough to try and force himself to calm down, and address the situation objectively. “I’m almost certain of it…”

With the fingers of his flesh hand, Drogan drew up enough of the liquid to wet his fingertips, and raised them to his tongue. His scarred face betrayed nothing whatsoever as he tasted.

“... _And?_ ”

“There is no other explanation that comes to mind, at least not _immediately_ …” the Inquisitor responded, drawing up more milk from what had splashed against his own chest, staring at his shining fingertips in abject fascination. “This is surely a side effect from your encounter with the plant. This _must be studied_.”

Again, Anastasia huffed dramatically, earning another shudder from her lover, still buried deep inside of her. Damn that scientific interest of his - there in pretty much every part of his life. He couldn't even leave it outside the bedroom. “Is that all you can think about? We’re supposed to be having sex, and you just want to _research_ me?”

“I am serious, Ana. You must undergo a blood test, first thing tomorrow. And that is an _order_. For now…”

The Inquisitor pulled out completely, still stood to attention and evidently entirely ready to pick up where they left off, and so sizeable Anastasia couldn’t help but wonder, after so many years, how in the Emperor’s name he actually fit inside any woman. Drogan leaned over the bed, grabbing an empty drinking glass from one of the nightstands, and returned it to the Interrogator’s breast.

The girl straightened up. “What are you doing?”

“I must take a sample,” Drogan said simply, as he began milking the girl - squeezing and pulling gently at her nipple until coming upon the optimum technique for getting the liquid out. A wide smirk was plastered on his face as he watched the glass steadily fill with the creamy fluid.

“And you’re aware this _hurts_ when you do it, yes?”

“The pain is necessary for the sake of research. We do not know how long you will be lactating for - we cannot waste the opportunity.”

“We don’t have to _take_ the- _ow!_ Will you stop that? And will you _stop laughing!_ It’s NOT FUNNY! It’s AWFUL!”

“It is not awful, Ana… it is quite natural.”

With the glass half-filled, Drogan seemed satisfied, and placed it back on the nightstand. Then he returned his attention to his acolyte, and to her nipple still oozing milk. His eyes followed a droplet as it collected, finally breaking under its own weight and running down the curve of the girl’s breast. With a metal thumb, he wiped it away.

“It is actually… quite sexy, if you ask me…”

“Are you… are you _mad?_ ” Anastasia cried. “I can’t think of anything _less_ -”

The Interrogator let out a yelp of surprise as her Inquisitor’s mouth sealed around her nipple. Strong arms held her close, wrapping almost protectively around her body as he sucked, and drank deeply from his girl. Against her own body she felt his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, heard Drogan’s longing moan, _felt_ it vibrate deeply against her sensitive bud as he started anew, seemingly hell-bent on drinking her dry.

Now _this_ … the Interrogator decided, as she weaved delicate fingers through the Inquisitor’s raven hair, _this_ was sexy. She let him do what he needed to do, she let it happen. She welcomed him as he drove inside of her once again, resuming his earlier pace, cock pumping in and out like he was utterly starved for satisfaction. Anastasia leaned back as Drogan’s mouth pushed against her, it was easier like this, and her head rested on the pillows.

“Are you enjoying yourself, huh?” The acolyte’s words were laced with derision.

Drogan didn’t respond, he was far too preoccupied for words now. And it wasn’t long before Anastasia’s wish was granted - what had been measured strokes not long before, was now a much more frantic rutting, the sheer force of each stroke and the sheer power of the man delivering them forced the bed frame into the wall with each and every one, faster, harder, _so much harder_. All the while, he never came up for air, not for a second. And all the while he drank, Anastasia seemed able to provide for him.

As much as the Interrogator hoped her symptoms- her _side-effect_ was as temporary as possible, she couldn’t deny, as she saw the look on her lover’s scarred face as he pounded her into the mattress - in a world of untold bliss by the look of it - that it wasn’t as bad as she first thought.


End file.
